


clair de lune

by jupiterjazzz



Category: All For The Game - Nora Sakavic
Genre: Cuddling & Snuggling, Domestic Fluff, M/M, Memories, a tiny bit of angst if you squint hard enough
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-30
Updated: 2019-06-30
Packaged: 2020-05-30 23:46:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,181
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19413985
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jupiterjazzz/pseuds/jupiterjazzz
Summary: andrew and neil have a soft moment. i tried to keep this is character lmao.





	clair de lune

**Author's Note:**

> this idea came to me randomly so this isn't proofread or anything, so sorry for any mistakes. enjoy.

Neil couldn’t sleep—not tonight—with memories of Baltimore and Lola and Nathan Wesninski running through his head. The clock reads 2:32 am, too early to go to the court and too late for anyone else to be up. Neil listens to the sounds to Kevin’s snoring from across the room and Andrew’s gentle breaths from beneath him to try and distract himself. It's not working. Nightmares have plagued Neil for some time now, the calendar inching closer and closer to the infamous date when Neil though his life would end. He hasn’t bothered Andrew with his problems, knowing that he should be over all of this by now. It has been two years after all. He knows Bee would spout some bullshit about how _healing takes time, Neil_ , but Neil doesn’t have that kind of time. All of his focus goes towards the Foxes right now, especially with the looming threat of a Raven match in a few weeks. Despite the upcoming challenge, Neil sees the best solution to his problem as not sleeping. He can practically hear Andrew calling him stupid. Whatever.

Below him, Neil can hear Andrew stir, sheets shifting in accomodation. Deciding that he’s bored with his current distractions, Neil takes off his blankets and tries to quietly make his way down the bunk bed ladder, which is nearly impossible seeing as the structure creaks and groans loud enough to wake the dead. As soon as his feet hit the cold wood floor, Neil turns to check if Kevin and Andrew are still asleep, which they luckily are. Neil opens the bedroom door and proceeds down the hall, catching a glimpse of his reflection through the open bathroom door. As Neil meets his eyes in the mirror all he can see is Nathan Wesninski staring back, manic smile in place and axe in hand. With haste Neil closes the door and makes his way to the kitchen, pouring himself a glass of water in an attempt to calm down. As the glass is raised towards his lips, Neil notes the shakiness to his hands and the blood under his fingernails from picking at his cuticles, which he failed to notice.

With a panicked calmness, Neil sets the glass in the sink and drifts towards the living room, mind blank and face pale. Neil falls to the couch roughly, the old springs squeaking under his weight. He settles in, finding some solace in the worn material that has adjusted itself to Neil’s body shape over the years. It still feels all wrong though, without Andrew’s strong presence at his side and the sound of Kevin’s Exy reruns playing loudly from his laptop. Wrong, wrong, wrong.

Neil is snapped out of his stupor and panic when he hears quiet footsteps coming towards him from the hallway. For a moment his mind goes to the worst possibility. Lola and Nathan are here, coming for him having taken out Kevin and Andrew already. But that’s not true, can’t be. Lola and Nathan are dead, buried alongside Nathaniel in Green Mount Cemetery. Neil turns to meet his guest and comes face to face with Andrew. Andrew, who's very much alive and well and with Neil. Andrew takes a hard, emotionless look at Neil and breathes out a heavy sigh. Neil knows that sigh. It means, _you've been keeping things from me, junkie, now tell me the truth._ And Neil does.

Andrew comes to the couch, settling himself down next to Neil but keeping his distance, not knowing what state of comfort Neil is currently in. After a deep breath, Neil begins.

“I’ve been having nightmares recently,” he starts, head hung low and eyes trained on his lap, “about Baltimore and that stuff. I didn’t really know what to do so I decided that not sleeping would be the best option. It’s not like I sleep well with nightmares anyway. It’s getting closer to the date and they’ve been getting worse. But we have that Raven match coming up and we need to win, Andrew. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t be having these problems anymore.” Neil concludes.

When he’s done talking, Neil looks from his lap to Andrew and is met with stony silence and a blank expression. But, Neil can see the fire in Andrew’s eyes, the anger and discontent he feels towards Neil’s words coming to fruition in one looks.

Andrew keeps his eyes locked onto Neil’s, hazel boring into icy blue. “You did not tell me, junkie,” he says, voice firm and emotionless but raspy from sleep. A statement, not a question. “if you say sorry one more time I will not hesitate to kill you, understand?”

Neil turns away, huffing out a laugh and focusing his attention onto any part of the room that’s not Andrew. “I didn’t want to get in the way,” he says mournfully. Andrew, clearly having none of that, grits out a yes or no? and grabs Neil’s chin once he gets a satisfactory answer. Andrew turns Neil’s head to face himself and gives Neil a long look.

“Eyes here,” Andrew says, and Neil reluctantly locks eyes with Andrew once more, “do not do that again. You will tell me next time and every time after that. Yes or no?” he finishes.

Neil whispers out a quiet yes and waits for the blonde to take control. Andrew pulls Neil’s face closer to his own and give him a chaste kiss, not enough to excite but enough for Neil to feel it and know it means something. Andrew pulls back and asks, “What do you want?”

Neil thinks for a moment, considers, and tells Andrew, “I want you to stay. I want you to hold me.”

Andrew seems to ponder Neil’s request and says, “You can touch from the waist up. Anywhere else and this is done.”

The blonde is the first to make a move, and leans back for Neil. He gestures at his stomach, an invitation for Neil to lay down. The redhead does, happy with being able to lay on Andrew’s soft tummy. Andrew runs his hands through the other’s hair, working through the knots in his unruly curls. Neil hums in satisfaction, his body rocking with the rise and fall of Andrew’s breathing.

Now that Neil is calm he breathes a bit easier. He’s surrounded by Andrew, the man who saved him and told him to stay. Neil starts to hum an old tune, his voice rumbling against Andrew’s body. His humming is out of tune and lethargic, but Andrew picks up on the song.

[“Clair de Lune,”](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CvFH_6DNRCY) he says, fingers still rubbing circles in Neil’s hair, “Claude Debussy, 1890.”

“I learned the song when I was in France,” Neil replies, brows furrowing at the memory, “it’s beautiful.”

Moonlight shone through the window, illuminating Neil’s cheekbones and the scars littering them. His long eyelashes cast a shadow across his face, plump lips parted and red. Andrew looked towards the ceiling, eyes focusing in on a water stain borne from a bad rainstorm. _Beautiful, huh?_

“180%. Go to sleep, junkie.”

And he did.


End file.
